The Fallen Diaries: Strike to Incinerate
by JustAnotherObsession94
Summary: Some flashbacks and memories of Ozai Kasanji in the world my sister, Melizza-XoXo has created in a story she's writing The Fallen Diaries: Take Me As You Find Me. These chapters work to set the stage for Zuko's life thru explaining the previous generation
1. Like Father Like Son September 1980

Reflecting the scene that just passed, I heard his words spewing from my mouth and my gaze got lost in the fire place until I was seeing it from a different perspective; a younger, naïve perspective.

It was the same room I presently occupied, but it was so different still. I was standing young and defiant in the presence of the age-spotted old world conservative.

"You are a disgrace," he rasped condescendingly. I averted my gaze.

"I'm sorry Father; I will not disappoint you again."

"No, you will not." What did he mean; I wondered frantically, that sounded more like a death threat than anything. I was terrified of his power he held over my life, of what he could do…

"You will never see the girl again." He paused, "Do you understand me?" Then raised his voice, "Do you understand!?" With each word he stepped forward imposingly, but I knew better than to back away and I knew I couldn't stop the inevitable blow that would come. "Never" he shouted the despising word, emphasizing the strike to my face; I felt the blood swell and tasted it in my mouth. I held my ground. "Look at me" he yelled, his breath putrid in my face. I hesitated one last second before staring the sixty three year old influential "businessman" in the eye.

"Yes sir." I gritted my teeth and he whopped me in the back of the head before briskly turning and walking out of the living room off to some other place in the big house, probably to check on business matters. I understood there was going to be a pretty significant shipping of the goods out to Newark tomorrow that my elder brother was having a pretty big part in. Before he was completely out of sight to me he turned back for a few more words.

"One day," he said, "You will understand. All will be made clear for you." Bull shit. I thought. As soon as the monster was out of sight I went the separate way to my bedroom. I sat down on my crimson bed and automatically pulled her portrait out from under my mattress. She was so beautiful. She was nothing like me at all, completely opposite in fact, and she was all I admired in someone. We were so different and somehow the only thing that stood in our way at the time was my father. I'd always wondered how my brother had survived so well. He was always Father's favorite, the rights of the eldest son. He'd be getting married to the "love of his life" this summer and I despised him for it.

I took a deep breath in a half-hearted effort to clear my thoughts. I got up and dug my black leather jacket out from its usual corner and flung my window open. I maneuvered out of the exit mechanically, having done so many times before. I had to see her, I had to go see my Ursa.


	2. I Remember The Day When We Met Oct 1980

We were fighting again, Ursa and me. I couldn't understand it and I couldn't understand her. Doesn't she see that what I'm doing is necessary? She argues that innocent people are dying and that this is wrong and maybe it is, but in this world someone has to be on top. The only choice, control or be controlled. I have to carry on the ideas of my ancestors, of my father and my grandfather Sozin.

I retreated to my study with a slam of the door behind me, leaving her and her ideals back in the kitchen doing something with the kids. Everything had gotten so complicated. How wrong I was when I thought it was difficult before. We'd never fought before, not so seriously. Not like it has been getting at least. It once was that the only battle front was the one I had to face beyond the threshold of my home.

I remember the day when we met. I'd never seen her before. She was new Belleville High School, a transfer student. She and I lead a debate in history class in which we spoke from opposing sides of the Hundred Year War. It was the first time I had ever been defeated in a debate to someone and I nearly hated her for it. After school that day I saw her walking on the sidewalk near the park. I never knew what made me do it, but I pulled up beside her.

"Hi, you need a ride?" She looked at me and smiled.

"No, you need a walk." I realized that wasn't a question and I thought it was a rather silly statement, but I parked my car right there on the side of the road, more intrigued than anything. Together we walked aimlessly around the park, just talking. No pressure or politics, it was just the two of us in the pleasant day. It was easy yet I knew there was going to be hell to pay later for getting home a bit late, but I didn't let the thoughts bother me; it was worth it. This girl, Ursa, I learned her name was, she brought out things in me I hadn't known before. Made me think about things I'd never thought before. It was freedom and she was like an oasis in my desert life.

In the present, I popped a few pills while I contemplated this in my private room. Everything was so simple then but it all had changed. Everything had changed and I could feel more coming on. Something inside me still wanted to stop it but I couldn't. Necessary sacrifices had to be made. All for the greater good and I knew I would need to deny my happiness, devote my life to the old cause. Necessary sacrifices.


	3. Of Paintings and Parents June 1981

Damn kids. It doesn't make any sense how my daughter seems to be becoming so well accustomed to this life while the boy is well, not. It must be something about the nature of an adolescent boy to deny his parents. I sighed, he'll learn in time, all he needs is a strong fist, like I myself needed once. It was in the midst of these thoughts I fell asleep and dreamt a memory, one that I had been defying passage into my mind in my waking moments.

I was young, nearly sixteen and Ursa and I had been seeing each other more frequently, talking, getting to know each other, and I'd daresay we were more than friends by that time. But I feared my father. I knew he could never learn about us, and I needed to make sure she understood the consequences of what we could be getting into. That was the first night I'd ever blatantly disobeyed my father's wishes. I knew I could never get my car out of the house without waking my father so I had made prior arrangements. My best bud, Eugene Zhao, was already gonna be around the neighborhood so I was able to get a ride with him. He met me at my street corner, as I asked, and he drove me to 117 Hampton Drive.

"You sure you don't want some of this man?"

"Yeah, not tonight. Figure I'll light up with her some other time."

"If you say so."

"I do." I opened the door to get out.

"How long til I gotta come and get ya?"

I shrugged, "A couple hours."

"All right, see ya, lover boy!" And Eugene's car sped off before I was completely out of it. Go to Hell, I thought.

From my perch on a steady tree branch I could see her in her room. She sat at an easel, painting something that was obscured from my view. I lit an illuminating flame in my palm to get her attention. The little fireball turned the night into day for the second I dared to let it last. She turned, as I had expected, startled by her peripheral vision. Her expression softened when she saw me and she put up a finger signaling one second. She made a last quick stroke with her paintbrush before scurrying over to her window.

"What are you doing here?" She hissed at me, if I didn't know her better I'd say she didn't want me there.

"Seeing you." I said in an obvious way, taking her hand and climbing into her room. She rolled her eyes.

"You'll get us both killed."

"Then why are you smiling?" I kissed her lightly, just because I felt like it.

"Come, sit." She motioned for me to sit beside her on her burgundy water bed and I heard her sigh beside me.

"What's the matter?" I asked her with concern.

"I'm worried." I'd always liked that about her, she would always say so if something was bothering her. I nodded and asked her to elaborate.

"Well, it's…our parents. How did things start off so well for us and now it's like everything in the world is against us. And I feel like it's completely my fault."

"No! Ursa, you did what you felt was right; it's not your fault. We can overcome this, it doesn't matter what our parents want, I mean, I'm in love with you and I will not let my father or yours come between us."

"Yes, but there's only so much we can do. I shouldn't have said anything to my dad, if only I'd have listened to you. If I'd have known telling him wouldn't help you, just make it worse, then we wouldn't have this problem. Now you're no better off and we're both in danger."

I understood her thoughts, and I was so sorry that I was putting her through it all. She went to her father who she had trusted so much with news of my father's temper and how he takes it all out on me. Her father did not want her to get involved in such…messy affairs on top of already being an overprotective bastard. He'd been looking for an excuse to force us apart and when he learned of my family's fault he severed his business ties with my father as well as Ursa's ties with me and retired; he'd saved up enough bloody millions to live like a king if he lived to be twice my own father's age. The point being, our parents had begun feuding and though my father wasn't so paranoid about my love life, neither of them were crazy about us being together.

"Ozai, I had to do something. I still have to; I won't just do nothing while he keeps hurting you!"

"Ursa, it's not me I'm worried about. I knew when I came here that it would be risky, and I hate putting you in danger. If they find out that we still see each other, what he can do to me isn't nearly as bad as what might happen to you, or to us. My father may be aging, but he still has his wits about him. And he has my elder brother to do his bidding. I just want you to know, the worst that could happen, my father might even send Iroh to get you out of the way. Bad for business. I know that Iroh doesn't always like what he does, but he's a faithful son, always father's favorite and he'll do any task assigned to him. I just mean that we have to be careful. Really careful, Ursa."

"I know. I'll be so glad when all of this is over. When we can just live our own lives without the influence of our parents. We're like Wesley and Buttercup."

"Like what?"

"You don't know The Princess Bride? Wow, the best movie of the whole decade. We'll have to watch it sometime."

"Sure."

She lied down on her bed, stretching her arms over her head. She was so beautiful. I took a glance over at her easel and saw the piece she was working on earlier when I interrupted the gifted artist at work. It was a landscape, a beautiful beach with a vast horizon. Probably a scene she remembered from her life in California. My gaze moved to the left of the painting, the only life forms in the painting were two people on the edge of the beach. It wasn't finished, but I had a guess as to the inspiration for what seemed to be a young couple.

"It's not finished yet," she noticed me observing the art; "I want to go there with you someday. It was one of my favorite places to go to. You'd love it. All the elements in perfect harmony, the sun is always just right. It's a firebender's paradise, it really is."

I nodded, lying on her bed with her, hoping she wouldn't mind me putting my arm around her. She didn't.

"And it will happen. I promise I will take you there as soon as life is our own." I told her this to give her hope for the future. I couldn't stand how unable I was to control these things. I felt her body move closer to me and I wrapped my arms around her. I knew it wouldn't be wise to stay too long but…

"Ursa?"

"Huh?"

"I need to use your phone."

"Oh, okay. It's right over there, on the table."

I grabbed her phone and dialed the familiar number. I knew where he'd be.

"Hey, it's Ozai. Eugene around?"

"Hey."

"No, I'm just gonna walk home."

"Shut up." I hung up on his perverted words and I realized I probably would have been walking home anyway. He didn't give me the impression he was eager to come any time soon. He needs to get a life, or a woman.

"Sorry about that." I apologized to Ursa for the anticlimactic interruption.

"Actually, I need to get up for a second," she said as she stood up. "I'm going to change and get ready for bed." I waited as she grabbed a nightgown from a drawer and was about to leave to change in her bathroom.

"Ursa, why don't you stay in here?"

"But I have to-"

"I know, but if you go out there you might wake up your father."

"True…But even so he won't necessarily think anything of it."

"Do you normally go change in the bathroom?"

"Well no…okay, fine. But you have to turn around."

"Of course."

"Promise?"

"Yeah," no.

She draped her bedspread over my head, yeah like that'll work. But I decided to humor her. Of course it was easy to watch her change from a space between the covers and the bed. She finished.

"Did you see anything?"

You bet I did, but what I said instead was: "Oh, you're done?"

"Mhmm." She sat back down on the bed with me and I got her to lay down with me. I pulled the covers over her and held her until she fell asleep in my arms.


	4. Hell is for Children May 2000

Flashback May 2000

Curse that day, that one act. I still believe that it symbolizes the beginning of the end of everything that was truly good. Those are my thoughts as I reflect on the incident. It happened one day in May, 2000. It was just one year before the tragedy.

Zuko and I were the only ones home that Friday afternoon since Ursa was out picking up Azula from ballet lessons. I was livid. I couldn't find my stash of premium heroine. Not just what I was keeping for myself but what I was meant to be selling later than night for a high price. I turned out all the dresser drawers, emptying the contents unfolded onto piles on the floor, slamming them shut in my frenzy. I stormed into the living room and saw Zuko at the kitchen table with his school books sprawled about him. He didn't look up when I entered the room. The idea that had been floating in my head forced itself undeniably to the front of my mind. I furiously slammed shut the book he'd been working from. That'd get the little brat's attention.

"Where is it?!" I demanded of him, he had to have taken it. It must have been him. I to this day don't understand what the hell his motives were, maybe some pathetic shit about doing the right thing. Maybe something about proving a ridiculous point or maybe he thought my role in the business was bad for the family. I'll never know, I just know that it pissed me off, and that's a hell of a understatement. I could feel his fear radiating off of him, I could smell it. But he looked me in the eye and kept his gaze steady.

"What are you talking about?" He was defiant, dumb move.

"Don't you try that shit with me," I growled menacingly, unabashed, "I know what you did. What the fuck did you do with it?" I yelled at him, doubtful if he even knew what "it" was. He kept his stare on me, trying not to show his fear. It didn't work. He shook his insolently. That's when my anger drove me to attack him physically for the first time. The back of my hand struck him across the face and his chair toppled to the floor with him. In a rage against the kid, I kicked the fallen chair into him. He started to scream. Not the way kids scream when they want something or throw a tantrum or something, no, a terrified, angry, horrific scream. It chilled me and I hated it, I didn't feel like myself. I could have sworn I was watching the whole thing, a third party, not the one causing the kid's torment. And still, unfeeling I went on in my fury. My booted foot made contact with something on his person. I didn't know or care what I hit. He cried louder and louder and I reached down to his tiny, doubled over, form, grabbing his shirt and pulling him up to my eye level. I yelled madness at his shaken figure, and I moved to throw the beaten and heaving body across the room.

"Put. Him. Down." Her voice took me by a striking surprise. I spun back into reality. She was the one that always could bring me back to my senses. She was the one that spoke the one voice of reason. She was the one that I could always find my way back to, that I could always hear and see, no matter how far away I was, and no matter how high. Or how low.

She ran over to us both, leaving our daughter in the doorway to observe. I watched through a thick glass window as she maternally comforted her distraught son. Worlds apart I stood in shock, a storm of dark, horrified thoughts that I couldn't stand to think pushing through my head. What the hell had I done?

She turned to confront me then with her soft and caring yet urgent and stern gaze. "We need to talk." I nodded, dumbfounded. I followed her into the privacy of our bedroom after she had calmed Zuko's nerves.

"Ozai, what happened? Tell me everything." She spoke softly, but I felt the command in her words, she wanted the complete truth and nothing else. "I cannot let this continue." She said it sadly and I understood.

"I am so sorry Ursa," I began, "I didn't realize what I- what was happening. Zuko, he's getting too observant, but he can't understand these things. I couldn't find some of the merch for tonight, I knew he moved it or tossed it or something, and it's going to be some tough explaining on my part later. That stuff's not cheap and he can't just go around messing with it. And a kid can't- he shouldn't try to-" I wasn't getting anywhere with that, I dropped the thoughts that were trying to form logical sentences. "It was out of control, I let it get the best of me. This won't happen again. It can't." And then I really almost believed I could prevent it all, but it had already begun. Slowly she took in my response, and she nodded, understanding but not condoning.

"I won't have anything like this happen again. You do not have to be this way," She said it so knowingly, willing it to be true, "How many times have you said that you'll never be like him?" She continued, keeping her voice level all the time, "I still believe." Her eyes met with mine. Through all this time, I'd become jaded and overcome by the duties of the world, she remained to stay so innocent, so hopeful. I loved her and I envied her. "Please," She begged of me, "don't turn into something I don't know. You are not a monster, and you are not your father."


End file.
